


Wedding(s) Planner

by Skye_Light



Series: Dramione One-shots [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Jitters, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, basically a long blurb, control freak!Hermione Granger, just to add flavour, slight smut towards the end, slightly posessive Draco Malfoy, sprinkled angst here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Light/pseuds/Skye_Light
Summary: A long blurb without significant plot. Hermione is having some wedding jitters and worries about the future. Ginny and Draco act as calming influences, though in quite different ways.It's mostly fluff, with a sprinkle of angst, and very slight smut at the end.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione One-shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046617
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Wedding(s) Planner

Hermione and Ginny were sitting on a bench in a muggle park in London, finishing their third cup of hot cocoa of the day, while little James was playing in the sandbox. Ginny was like a hawk, never letting him out of her sight, while still managing to listen to Hermione and offer advice. Hermione was impressed by Ginny’s newly found capacity to multitask. Motherhood must really change a person, a thought which caused a chill to travel down Hermione’s spine and settle in the pit of her stomach. She took another sip of the cocoa, hoping it’ll melt some of it away.

“Hermione are you okay?” asked Ginny, snapping Hermione out of her trance. Ginny’s eyes bore into Hermione’s before shifting back to James. “You’ve been quiet for some time now.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About the wedding? How is that going?” Hermione sighed.

“The wedding is coming together. Sort of. But I was thinking about what comes after.” Hermione exhaled forcibly and Ginny chuckled.

“Well, if I remember that muggle song you taught me, first comes love,” Ginny poked Hermione’s shoulder and Hermione giggled, “then comes marriage,” she poked her again and this time Hermione laughed, “so you’re worried about the baby or the baby carriage?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to be a mother.” Said Hermione. As if on command James stood up and came wobbling to them. He handed Hermione his stuffed stag and pat her on the knee.

“Pongs sad.” He said and waited patiently for Hermione to respond.

“Prongs is sad?” she repeated and carefully brushed some sand off the toy. When James didn’t protest, she took it as a sign of agreement. “Why is Prongs sad?” No one was sure whether James thought of the toy as a male or female, so they always referred to it as Prongs. Ginny assumed it was because he still struggled with the concept of pronouns when they didn’t apply to humans.

“Pongs sad, Mione sad.” He said and pat her knee again. He still couldn’t pronounce her full name, and the Weasleys and Potters have started using it as well.

“Oh, darling,” Hermione scooped him up and placed him on her lap, “I’m not sad, so Pongs, I mean Prongs, doesn’t have to be sad.” James reached up to her face and poked the wrinkle that had formed between her brows.

“Sad.” He said again and Hermione smiled at him. He beamed back at her. “Happy.” He wiggled out of her grasp and waddled back to the sandbox, leaving Prongs with Hermione.

“I think you’re doing good.” Said Ginny, taking Prongs and brushing off any remnants of sand from him.

“For a few hours now and again, but I’m not sure I can do this full time.”

“Well it doesn’t happen automatically, you know.” Said Ginny, leaning closer to Hermione, “There are some other things involved, and it needs–”

“I know how conception works, Ginny.” Said Hermione and the two laughed.

“I’m just trying to diffuse the tension. Are you sure this is about you being capable of being a parent or is it about the two of you having children in general?” Hermione sighed, “Ah, bingo.”

“It’s just, with the wedding and all the traditions and planning… It just paints our upbringing in such a stark contrast. How are we supposed to raise a child? We couldn’t have been raised more differently ourselves!”

“Okay, relax, breathe.” Ginny placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and cast a glance at James to make sure he was sufficiently distracted. “You have time to talk about it. And if there is one thing you two are surprisingly good at it’s talking. No one was more surprised than me, well maybe Ron, but you can do this.”

“Daddy!” James exclaimed and Hermione and Ginny turned to see Harry walking brusquely towards them. He was still wearing his Auror robes, thankfully the overcoat looked vaguely muggle-like, so he didn’t draw too much attention. Also, this was London, no one really pays attention to what you’re wearing. Harry swept James in his arms and spun him around, making the boy giggle uncontrollably.

“Hi James,” cooed Harry, hugging his son tight, “I missed you.”

“Miss you.” Replied James, hugging Harry back. Harry put him down after a minute and went to greet Hermione and Ginny. He gave Hermione a tight hug, before leaning down and giving his wife a kiss.

“If it isn’t Hermione ‘Fast-track-to-Minister-of-Magic’ Granger.” He said sitting between the two girls. “How have you been? It feels like it’s been ages since I last saw you.”

“Harry, darling,” said Ginny pulling on his robes playfully, “James is getting tired, and you need to go change if you want to make it in time to the Christmas Market.” Hermione cast her a thankful glance, as Harry sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you, girls, to gossip. I’ll drop James off at Molly’s and change. I’ll pick up Ron on the way back.” He pointed a finger at Hermione, “But you better be ready to answer some tough questions next week.” He winked at her and scooped James up. “Say, bye Mummy, bye Auntie Mione.”

“Bye, Mummy,” James blew Ginny a kiss, “Bye, Auntie Mione,” he blew Hermione a kiss as well and Ginny handed Harry James’ dipper bag. “Pongs!” screamed the boy reaching for the toy that was sticking out of the bag. The two of them headed out of the park and Ginny visibly relaxed.

“You know what, don’t rush this kids thing.” She said with a sigh. “Have some time to yourselves. Now, I’m hungry – how about we have dinner?

“Alright. Pizza?” Hermione asked.

“Oooh, I haven’t had pizza in months.” The two of them headed past the playground and towards one of Hermione’s favourite pizza joint.

Hermione apparated directly in the lobby of their building. It had been one of the many compromises the two had made over the last year. Sometimes Hermione would think back to the spoiled brat Draco Malfoy used to be and couldn’t help feeling proud of how far he had come.

“Good evening, Miss Granger.” Greeted her Yanni, a witch a couple of years younger than her, who worked at reception as part of her management internship. “I hope you had a pleasant evening?”

“Hello, Yenni. I did thank you, very much.” Yenni placed a few parcels on the desk.

“Those arrived for you and Mr Malfoy just a while back.” Hermione signed for the parcels and wished Yenni a pleasant evening. “You too, Miss.” Hermione headed to the elevators and tapped her wand on the small display.

The elevator jerked to life and opened its doors straight into the hallway of Hormone’s apartment. She stepped off it and took off her shoes and coat. She was only a tad late, as she entered the apartment and stopped by her office to drop off the parcels meant for her, before heading to the living room. Draco was seated on one of the loveseats, reading a book and Hermione stopped at the door to marvel at him. He was wearing dark suit pants and a crisp white shirt, even though he was at home all day. His legs were elegantly crossed and there was a glass of red wine next to him.

“You’re late.” He said curtly, before closing his book.

“You missed me?” she asked with a smile, which he slowly returned. He extended one arm towards her and she went to him.

“Always.” He said pulling her in his lap and burying his face in her neck, placing a kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “How is Ginny?”

“She’s good. James is growing fast.” Hummed Hemione showing him his parcel. “What is this?” she asked curiously. He barely ever received parcels here, he usually sent them to the manor, where his lab was. He took the parcel from her and opened it to reveal a stunning set of earing cuffs, carefully placed in a velvet box.

“I broke the news to my mother that you will not be wearing a veil. She insisted, since it would have been secured to your hair by Malfoy family jewellery, this was her other suggestion.” He said and took one of them out. Thin chains of enchanted metal shone and dangled from a thin frame that was designed to elongate one’s ears.

“They’re beautiful.” Whispered Hermione, who couldn’t look away from the jewellery.

“So you’ll wear them? At the wedding?” he asked hopefully. She nodded and gave him a sweet kiss, tracing her fingers over his jaw lightly. “Good. I don’t think my mother can handle any more surprises.”

“I guess you haven’t told her?” Asked Hermione quietly. Draco closed the box and placed it on the coffee table, before cupping her face in both his hands and gazing into her eyes.

“If I thought she would change her mind, I would have. But,” he paused and sighed, “she will not go against my father. She said you can keep the earrings.” Hermione hated to see him this sad.

“I’m sorry,” she said and kissed him. He chuckled against her lips.

“What are you apologising for, Granger? It’s hardly your fault.”

“That your mother refuses to come to her only son’s wedding because he’s marrying bellow his status? Yeah, I think I do share some of the blame.” Draco sighed and buried his face in her neck again, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her closer.

“I’m marrying up, Granger.” He whispered against her skin, “And I need to remind you of that if you’re doubting me.” He bit her shoulder and ran his tongue over the bite. She gasped but pulled herself off his lap.

“Don’t distract me.” She said heading to the kitchen. “I’ll get a glass of wine and we can get to planning.” He groaned but moved to the couch. Hermione did her best to steady her heart before coming back, grabbing her planning book along the way. She sat on the other side of the couch, placed her glass on the table, and the book in her lap. “We were at…” she leafed through the planner and saw him do the same.

“I have been reading up on muggle wedding rituals.” He said nonchalantly and she looked up at him.

“What’s your agenda, Malfoy?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well, since I was generous enough to concede on the veil and the–”

“Saying that implies you ever had a say in what _I_ wear on my wedding day.” She said leaning towards him and pointing a finger at him. “But you never did.” He leaned on the back of the couch and waved a hand dismissively.

“As I was saying, there is this one muggle tradition I want to discuss.” She crossed her arms but didn’t relax her face. “It’s supposed to symbolise the deflowering of the bride.” Hermione gasped and clutched the throw pillow on her side. His eyes met hers and he gave her a lopsided smile. “I would really appreciate it if you gave me this.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole thing is extremely new and not something, I ever thought I’d have to do.” He said, shrugging his shoulders.

“No. The real reason, Malfoy. And maybe I’ll consider it.” He seemed to think it over, before turning to her.

“Alright, Miss Negotiator.” He twisted around to fully face her. “I want you to wear a garter,” Hermione had the faint feeling that she was being stalked by him. She was right. He pounced just as she swung the pillow at him. He had her by the wrists before she could hit him, and the pillow flew off her hand. The glass on the table clattered and they both looked over to see it settle without spilling. He leaned down and gently took her earlobe between his teeth, before speaking, “I want you to wear a garter because I want everyone there to see that you’re mine.”

“I think your name on the invitations might tip people off beforehand.” She said, leaning back so he would fall on top of her. As he released her hands to brace himself before their faces smashed together in a rather painful way, she buried her hands in his hair, slowly raking her fingers through it. “You just want to scandalise my friends. Ron is being difficult enough as it is.”

“See, if you had been home on time, I would have had the upper hand. I had a plan for convincing you, which included dinner in muggle London, then sex. Now, because of Ginny, I just have to skip to the sex.”

“Draco,” she caught his face in her hands, “talk to me. It’s not that I don’t appreciate you trying to seduce me into agreeing to something, but it isn’t like you to miss an opportunity to outsmart me.” His eyes studied her face, and she lifted her head to meet his lips in a small kiss.

“I’m scared.” He said after a long pause and Hermione wiggled herself into a half-seated position under him, her hands still holding him close.

“Scared of what?” his eyes darted to his left forearm, before meeting hers again.

“This is not something I was prepared for. The muggle world has always been something I experienced as a form of rebellion. It was a way to punish my father, but I never really had to pay it any mind.” He sat up, but Hermione didn’t release him. He pulled her up, so she was straddling him, sitting on his knees. He folded his hands defensively in front of his chest, feeling foolish and frustrated with himself. “I spent all my life learning about wizarding traditions and being taught to dance. My mother explained in detail to me how my own wedding ceremony would progress. I had years to study every letter in the blood magic tying me to the Malfoy inheritance. But this?” he pointed to the planner, long since discarded on the floor with the pillow.

“You feel unprepared.” Said Hermione and his gaze instantly hardened beneath hers.

“Don’t.” he hissed, grabbing her by the waist and almost pushing her off him. “Don’t pity me.” She gripped his arms to steady herself. Unnecessary, seeing as he held her secure, his hands like iron manacles on her.

“Look at me. This is not pity. This is sympathy.”

“Same bloody thing.” He said quietly but relaxed his hold on her. Suddenly she felt like crying. He’d never admitted to feeling scared in front of her. In front of anyone, she assumed. And he had never experienced the difference between sympathy and pity.

“No,” she whispered and rested a hand on his chest, “Pity is how everyone looked at me when Ron dumped me. Sympathy runs deeper – I spent 11 years of my life trying to prepare for life by reading everything I could find, alone. Then, when I got my Hogwarts letter, I spent months reading everything I could possibly find on the wizarding world. And when I met Harry and the Weasleys, I still spent a lot of my time reading by myself, thinking it’ll prepare me.”

“Granger, everyone knows you’re a bookworm, is there a point to your soliloquy?”

“Yes.” She said and scooted closer to him on his lap. “I know what it feels like to memorise the books word for word only for life to sweep the rug from underneath your feet. Only, neither of us are facing it alone anymore.” She twisted to point at the box on the table. “Do you think I enjoy being blindsided by new aspects of your family’s weird wedding traditions every day? I still can’t get over the fact your father tried to request the sheets of our first wedding night.” She made a disgusted face, “But you had my back, and you took care of it. So, let me guide you through this. We are doing it for your benefit.” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s naïve to think that this is what will ultimately deter everyone from assuming I’m still loyal to Voldemort’s cause. I’ve been dating Saint Potter’s best friend for a year,” he poked her side lightly, “I’ve been helping the Aurors for two years. And you think a party will change anything?”

“Not just a party. A display of humility and growth. If you show that you can quietly respect my muggle heritage it will mean that you no longer subscribe to your father’s blood supremacy notions or Voldemort’s cause, as hypocritical as it was.”

“Humility, huh?” he said and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I think you have the wrong man for the job.” He paused and seemed to think for a moment. “Okay, I’ll drop the subject of the garter if you tell me the real reason you don’t want to do it. I see your side in not taking my last name. But you agreed to be given away, a tradition far more misogynistic than even the veil in my opinion, and you will wear white, even though you’re not a virgin. Not to mention all the things you agreed to in the wizarding ceremony that are more than a little problematic. So why no garter?” Hermione blushed.

“Because I don’t want people to see that side of me.”

“What side?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“The side you bring out. I want people to believe I hold authority, over myself and my surroundings. That I am in control, even when I’m having fun. And I can’t appear that way if…” her voice trailed off.

“If…?” he beckoned her.

“If your head is between my thighs.” She whispered. A mischievous smile bloomed across his face.

“I find that answer more than satisfactory.” He said twisting both of them, so she was pinned under him on the couch. “Just to make sure I got the point, though,” he purred into her ear and Hermione rolled her eyes only half in irritation, “What you’re saying is,” he placed an open mouth kiss on her neck, sucking slightly. “I make you lose control.”

“Not exactly.” She whispered. His head shot up; one brow raised. She gave him a mischievous smile to rival his.

“Do you mean to tell me my charm is not as disarming as I was led to believe?”

“Yes.” She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, “But I trust you enough to willingly give up my control. I would hope that means more.” His expression softened to one of surprise and adoration.

“It means more than anything to me.” He said, gently kissing her.

“Can we go back to planning?” She asked and he dropped his head on her shoulder. “We can pick this up later.”

“Or we finish this now and plan while getting ready for round two.” He pondered and Hemione chuckled and tugged on his hair lightly.

“Since when do you need time to recover for round two? Getting old?” he sneered at her but pushed himself off her.

“Alright then.” He composed himself and grabbed his book and diary. Hermione gazed at him, not moving from her position. She liked to observe him like this – no matter how relaxed he was, he always exuded the confidence of someone who owns the room. It was one of the things that bothered her the most about him while they were at school because he used it to belittle everyone else. But now, seeing the slight flush of his cheeks, and the sly smile growing on his face, she found him infatuating. “I don’t suppose you’re thinking about catering menus.” He said leafing through his book.

“Not yet but give me a minute. I’m not as good at occlumency as you. I need some time to cool down.” She shimmied up to a seating position.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked and looked at her.

“About how much had to come in place for this moment to exist.” He chuckled.

“Ginny’s got you sentimental, hasn’t she?” he asked with a scoff.

“Amongst other things. She said that everyone is surprised at how good we seem to be together, and it got me thinking on how many little things had to align.” He looked at her confused.

“How much of this do you really think was a coincidence?” she shrugged, and he laughed. “You think it was a coincidence my work with the Aurors led me to spend time with you? That is was just faith that paired me with Potter?” his voice had a mocking undertone.

“Of course not, I’m not stupid.” She said dismissively, reaching for her own books. He leaned over him to et to her glass, and his fingers rested on her lower back. “But none of that would have happened if you hadn’t started working with alchemy after Hogwarts. Or if your proposal was declined.” She smiled at him and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. “Admit it. We’re a miracle. Even your careful planning and my obsession with success and control would not have been enough to bring us together.”

“What other things?” he asked, “What other things are you thinking about?”

“Do you want children?” she asked suddenly. His face blanched in surprise.

“I suppose.” He said faintly. “Are you…?”

“No!” She said too loud. “No. I saw Ginny with James and it got me thinking. If we were to have children how would we raise them? We’re so fundamentally different.”

“I’d suggest we raise them together.” He shrugged, but turned to her, his face serious. “We’re not that different, not where it counts.” He pointed to the piles of books on the floor in front of the massive shelves Draco helped Hermione installed before they even started dating. “If you want, this could be our next project. Just don’t make me deal with two new topics at once.”

“Alight. We’ll come to that after the wedding.” She said with a sigh of relief. He watched her with a smile as she tied her hair in a messy bun. “So, fish or chicken?” she asked with a serious tone as if it was the most important question in the world.

As Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror, she suddenly thought that the Wizarding ceremony was the less scary one – it was performed in the relative privacy of the Ministry, surrounded by friends. Mostly. Having Lucius Malfoy openly glare at her was slightly off-putting, but Draco had positioned himself between them as much as he could. Ron was difficult that whole day and according to Harry, he’s been difficult since.

“Hermione, are you okay? You look pale.” Ginny appeared in the mirror behind Hermione.

“Isn’t it normal for brides to be worried?” She asked turning away from her reflection.

“Yes, cold feet are a thing,” Said Ginny, fitting the ear cuffs to Hermione, “but not for brides who are already married to the man down the aisle.” Once she was done, Ginny took a step back. “You didn’t look that nervous last week at the Ministry, so this couldn’t be about your choice of groom. So, what is this about.”

“I’m afraid he might snap.” Said Hermione and sat down on one of the chairs. “Malfoy. He’s been growing more and more agitated with every day and I’m scared this might be it.”

“He didn’t seem it.” Said Ginny, in the past week she’d seen Draco several times around the last wedding details and he always seemed his usual nonchalant self, dropping sly insults every now and then.

“Has the Prophet arrived?” she asked, too scared to look out of the window. The door opened and Luna walked in.

“Hello Hermione, you look magnificent.” Luna smiled and hugged Hermione.

“Thank you, Luna. Is everything going to plan?” asked Hermione. Luna laughed.

“George bet Blaise 20 galleons you’d ask that.” She said and Hermione and Ginny laughed.

“Zabini can afford more. Tell George to place higher bets next time.” Added Hermione.

“I was actually sent to check on you.” Said Luna, going to the window. “The boys seem to be worried that you might bolt.” Luna looked at Hermione and to the door. “Ron is waiting outside, he wanted to talk to you.” Ginny rushed to the door and dragged Ron inside.

“Hi Hermione,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck, “You look wonderful.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here to apologise about my behaviour. I’ve been told that I hold on to grudges as a coping mechanism, but that it is hurting the people closest to me.” He looked at Hermione’s puzzled look. “Mandatory Auror mental healing.” He said and Hermione rushed to hug him. “Oh!” he exclaimed and returned the hug.

“Hermione, don’t cry, you’ll ruin your make up.” Said Ginny and Hermione laughed through a sniffle but didn’t let go of Ron.

“I’m still a little apprehensive of your choice of groom, but if you’re happy then it’s fine with me.” Said Ron, rubbing slow circles on her back.

“Is it too late to send everybody home?” she asked through a laugh. “Just walk out have the reporters take a picture and leave.”

“If I had known all it would take for you to call this off was for Weasley to apologise I would have imperioed him a long time ago.” Hermione looked up to see Draco casually leaning on the door frame, hands in his tux’s pockets, ankles crossed. The smug smile on his face faded when he saw Hermione’s red eyes. “Granger, what’s wrong?” Hermione disentangled from Ron and did her best to dab her tears away without wiping away all her make up.

“It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.” She said as she took a few steps towards him.

“I think that applies to people who are not yet married.” He straightened and met her halfway. He wrapped one hand around her bicep the other nestled I her hair, so he could tip her head back to look her in the eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked, and Hermione pulled him in for a hug.

“Some of them are happy.” She whispered and he hugged her tight. “Is everything ready?” she asked pulling away.

“The muggle photographer is ready, I’d suggest we hurry before James Potter Jr. brings Prongs to life,” he looked pointedly at Ginny, “again.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Malfoy. You try getting him to go anywhere without that thing. I’ve been carrying it around for the better part of 2 years.” She huffed and grabbed a small purse filled with makeup. “Let’s go, I’ll touch you up down there. Luna?”

“Yes?”

“Can you make sure everyone makes their way down in about 20 minutes?” Luna nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “Thanks, love.”

The muggle photographer seemed slightly disturbed by some of the guest, many of whom, despite their best effort, couldn’t blend in. Hermione had a few muggle friends remaining from her childhood years, her parents and a few of their friends, who also looked slightly baffled. Especially by the press that had arrived a little bit earlier, even if none of them could remember the name of the paper they worked for or why they were here.

“Oh, I was hoping to get a photo of the first time the groom sees you in the dress. They often cry – it makes for very emotional mementoes.” Said the photographer, as Draco and Hermione showed up hand in hand.

“I don’t cry, my father scarred me emotionally and now I’m numb.” Said Draco with a lazy smile and to everyone’s surprise, the photographer laughed.

“So did mine.” He said and gestured for them to stand in the light.

“I like him,” whispered Draco in Hermione’s ear as they arranged themselves for the pictures. “Can we keep him?” The bridge of his nose was pressed to her temple.

“He’s a person, not a pet, Malfoy.” She turned her head to him slightly. “But we can keep his card for the next time.”

The party went more smoothly, once all the photographers – muggle and wizard – were gone. Without the external pressure, both Draco and Hermione relaxed, especially when the alcohol started pouring without causing duels. Hermione’s parents seemed so happy, despite everything that had happened, and Hemione felt almost ecstatic just on their happiness. Harry and Ginny wanted to be the first to turn in because James was getting grumpy, but Ron and George convinced them they could take James to Molly. Hermione felt a twinge of sadness that Ron was the first to leave, but she knew that despite his apology, he still felt weird around Draco and his friends. Soon after that almost every muggle was either gone or too drunk to notice when the champagne glasses seemed to refill themselves and the wands came out.

“How are you?” Draco ran his fingers through Hermione’s hair. She had taken it down a while back when the pins started causing a headache. She leaned into his hand.

“I’m glad it’s over.” She said and winked at him. “There’s no getting rid of me now – we’re married in both ministries.” He laughed and hooked his shoe around one of her chair’s legs, pulling her closer to him.

“It goes both ways. You’re chained to me now, wife.” He pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply.

“How are you?” she asked once he pulled away slightly and ran her fingers across his jaw and down to his tie. It was dark green and silver, just to spite her and her Gryffindor friends. In retaliation, the flowers were red and yellow, and the plates were with red and gold rims.

“I’m happy to be celebrating with our friends, but I’d rather have you for myself now.” He whispered, catching her free wrist in his hand and placing a kiss on the palm of her hand. His grey eyes bore into hers. Letting go of his tie she gulped the rest of her champagne and took him by the hand.

“We can go. We don’t have to stay all night.” He smirked and stood up helping her up as well. “I’ll make the rounds and come find you.” He nodded and with a last squeeze of her hand headed to his friends. Hermione found Ginny and Harry last, as the two were making out like teenagers in one of the corners. She cleared her throat to get their attention. “Far be it from me to interrupt, but we’re calling it a night.” Harry, slightly more intoxicated than Hermione had seen him before, wolf-whistled. “Very interesting coming from you.” She said with a smile, as Ginny stood up to hug her.

“I’m happy for you. For both of you.” She said and gave way for Harry to hug her. He wrapped her in a tight hug before letting her go. “Here,” said Ginny handing her a canvas bag, tied with a ribbon. It was small enough to fit in her palm and she squeezed it tight.

“Thanks, Ginny.” She said and felt Draco’s hand sneak around her middle. She looked up to see her husband smile at Ginny and Harry. He shook Harry’s hand and leaned to kiss Ginny on the cheek. Hermione stood there gaping at the familiarity between them. Before she could say anything, he spoke.

“Blaise wants to tell you something he wouldn’t tell me. Good night, Potter, Potter.” Ginny waved at them, resuming her seat in Harry’s lap, while Draco led Hermione to his Slytherin friends standing near the door.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the new lady Malfoy.” Said Blaise Zabini, who by all accounts should be crawling under the table, judging by how much he’d had to drink. Hermione suspected he had been sipping a sobering potion throughout the evening.

“Behave, Zabini.” Said Draco in a warning. Anna, a muggle friend of Hermione’s, was draped over his shoulders. She waved at Hermione and blew her a kiss. Blaise carefully shifted the girl off his back and into Pansy’s arms.

“I wanted to thank you, Hermione Ganger.” He said, straightening his immaculate suit. “Thank you for inviting us, despite all our years at Hogwarts, and for making sure no one cursed us all night. But most of all thank you for agreeing to go out with Malfoy, so he’s stop whining to us every night.” Blaise gave her a tight hug as Theo Nott joined the group. Anna’s face lit up when she saw him, and he carefully took her from Pansy’s grasp.

“I’ll drive her home.” He informed everyone, before patting Draco on the shoulder. “Good luck to both of you.” He said gently laying a hand on Hermione’s shoulder.

“Are you okay to drive?” asked Hermione, not sure is letting Anna go with Theo was such a bright idea in her state.

“Don’t worry,” said Pansy, “I’m going with them. Nothing’s going to happen.” She said encouragingly. Hermione nodded and waved at Anna and Pansy goodbye.

“And one more thing,” said Blaise, as he was the only one left. He leaned in and Hermione did the same, following his gaze to a table of her drunk friends. “Do you know if Luna Lovegood is seeing anyone?” Hermione giggled and saw Draco pinch the base of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger.

“She’s available,” she said with a smile. Luna had been particularly interested in all the wrackspurts around Blaise all night. “And here’s a word of advice, don’t try too hard – she’ll see right through anyone’s façade. Just be yourself.” Blaise gave her a brilliant smile and wished them goodnight.

“That was exceptionally kind of you, _lady Malfoy_.” Said Draco with a smile as he guided her through the hotel. It was small enough to be exclusively rented to them. Hermione stopped walking and Draco turned to look at her, concerned. “Is something wrong, Granger?”

“I’m sorry your parents didn’t come tonight.” She said quietly and felt a tear roll down her eyes. She was tired and emotionally drained from today, and couldn’t stop her tears. Draco gently brushed it off her face.

“It’s okay,” he said drawing her in for a hug, tucking her head against his shoulder. “I know you did your best to convince them. And I love you even more for trying.” She looked at him and laughed.

“Who told you?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“One of the house-elves came this morning to offer their services for the wedding. I refused, knowing you would disapprove, but she did relay my mother’s best wishes and my father’s less cheerful congratulations.”

“Are you sure he won’t…” Draco shook his head

“No, in his own words, he’d let me tarnish the family name before he risks the estate falling in the hands of one of my cousins and their offspring.” He took Hermione’s face in his hands and angled it up. “You are technically lady Malfoy now, like it or not.” He kissed her and led her to their room. “How would you like some more champagne?” he asked when they had reached their door.

“You don’t need to get me wasted; I’ll have sex with you either way.” She giggled and he pushed her against the door.

“Don’t play with me, witch.” He purred in her ear and she shivered. “I’ll get a bucket of ice and a bottle.” He unlocked the door and opened it for her.

“Hurry back.” She said quietly and he smiled at her, before disapparating. She entered their room and quickly opened Ginny’s present. When he appeared back with a bucket of ice, champagne and two glasses she was sitting on the bed, still in her dress. “I can’t take it off by myself.” She said exasperated. She’d desperately tried to get the thing undone but hadn’t made much progress.

“Let’s see if I can manage.” He said placing the champagne down on the bedside table. Hermione stood up and turned her back to him. His nimble fingers undid he dress swiftly, and he placed slow kisses across her back as he loosened her dress, without taking it off. “A glass?” he asked, pulling her back to his chest, and resting his chin on her shoulder. He flicked his wand to the champagne, and it uncorked itself, poured two glasses, and returned to the ice bucket. With another flick, the two glasses floated over to Draco and Hermione.

“Of course, you know a spell for that.” She scoffed and he bit her shoulder playfully. She turned around, still in his embrace and touched her glass to his. “To us.”

“To us.” He echoed her and they drank, never taking their eyes off each other.

“Do you remember a couple of months ago when we were planning this wedding?” she asked innocently and he nodded, brow furrowed in suspicion. “Well, remember how I was fervently against doing the garter bit in front of everyone.”

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” he asked his eyes darting down her dress. Hermione nodded and bit her lip to stop from giggling nervously.

“It matches your tie as well.” She said quietly. He drew her face in for a sloppy kiss, before taking her glass from her and placing both glasses on the nightstand.

“Well, then, I have an idea that will certainly beat doing it properly at the ceremony.” He said and reached to further loosen Hermione’s dress. “You said you didn’t think you could look properly in control if I had my head between your legs in public. But now we’re alone.” He took off his coat and threw it in the direction of the armchair in the corner. “I want you to see me take the garter off and I want to see you lose control.” He undid the last button holding her dress to her and it pooled at her feet. “Sit.” He commanded and she obeyed faster than she would have liked under any other circumstances. She sat on the edge of the bed, legs apart. He dropped to his knees between her legs and gripped her ankle, placing an open mouth kiss on the inside of her knee, keeping his eyes on hers. She gasped feeling his tongue flick across her skin. “You were right, this would have been a disaster in public.” He placed another kiss further up until he reached the green-and-silver garter. He stopped there for a moment, before kissing her thigh above the garter.

“Draco,” she gasped jerking her thigh. She wasn’t prepared for this. He leered at her from between her legs before placing a kiss on the crook of her thigh. “You missed the garter.” She whispered feeling heat pool in her lower abdomen.

“I haven’t missed a single thing. I’m just taking my time. It’s not like we have an audience to rush for,” he kissed her core over her underwear, and she sucked in a breath through her teeth, burying her hands in his hair. “No, no, no” he cooed, pulling back. “You’re not in control here, remember?” she nodded and ran her fingers through her hair before gripping the sheets tight. “Good girl.” He said placing another kiss so far up her thigh that his nose brushed against her core.

“Enough teasing, please.” She gasped as she did her best not to buck her hips against him. He sighed against her and looked at her with fake resignation and trailed his tongue from her hipbone to the garter. His teeth gently grazed her skin, sending goosebumps all over her skin, as he gripped the garter. He locked his eyes on hers and slowly slid it to her ankle, where he let it pool on the ground. As soon as it was off Hermione reached down and gripped his tie, pulling him up to her level. His eyes were black with lust and she pulled him on top of her. “I said enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He growled and kissed her hungrily.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading so far! I hope you liked it. This is an easy concept I can play with often (including flashbacks), so I might be adding to this, but it won't have a specific story - just snippets of domestic Dramione fluff. Let me know if that sounds interesting.


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